Let's Take It to the Grave
by BundyShoes
Summary: An AU take off from the end of the film. The Ancient Ones don't rise and the 5 friends find their way back to society after escaping the nightmare at the cabin. But can they go back to normal? And has the nightmare really passed? Marty/Dana, Curt/Jules, Holden/OC. T for now, might go higher.


She gripped his hand as tightly as she could. Even as the ceiling rained down upon them and the floor cracked heavily at their feet, she could still feel herself fading away. In a strange way, she was almost grateful for that. Hopefully she wouldn't have to see it end- see _him_ end.

Marty tightened his hold on her and she felt the despair well up again at the injustice of it all. The cards had been stacked against them from the beginning…and now it was just hopeless.

She let her head drop down and her eyes clenched shut. She felt him curve his body into hers, trying to almost huddle against whatever was rumbling beneath them. It wouldn't be too long now…

The stones broke upwards and she knew it was going to happen now. The trembling was so violent now and she took one last breath before-

"_Dana?! Maaar-tyyy!_"

Her eyes flew open. Immediately she was blinded by light and the first thing she noticed after blinking a couple of times was the endless amounts of green in front of her.

They were back in the woods.

A gasp left her as she turned to look at Marty, who was already staring confusedly back at her. His face was clean and any trace of the Hell they'd been through had been wiped off completely, as though it had never happened. She realized belatedly that her own injuries seemed to have vanished and she looked down to check.

Nothing.

No blood, no torn flesh, nothing at all- just smooth skin and perfectly intact clothes.

Her head began to spin and she lifted a hand to steady herself.

"Wha-?" she began before she was interrupted by someone calling their names again. She had forgotten about that after their state of apparel had caught her eye.

"_Marty! Dana!_" The voice was louder and more insistent this time around, almost desperate. Dana glanced at Marty, confused as to what to do. He shrugged helplessly back at her, seeming to still be in a daze.

"Are we dead?" she croaked, her voice breaking on the last word. He couldn't answer her. He didn't know how.

She took a deep breath before heaving herself to her feet, her hand still firmly entwined with his. He quickly followed her example, and they hurried to follow the voice- which led _back_ to the cabin.

Dana felt herself pause right before the trees opened to the clearing. What was she expecting to greet her past the foliage? After everything she had seen, everything that had occurred at this place, could she really handle anything more?

Marty sensed her hesitancy and gently squeezed her hand. Her eyes found his and she was thankful, not for the first time, that it was him with her during all of this. She felt her resolve strengthening, remembering that they _had_ faced so much already- what's a little more?

She took a deep breath and they walked out into the clearing.

"Dana! Marty!"

Marty let out a strangled yelp next to her and she felt the air leave her lungs.

"_…Jules_?" she called out weakly.

Because it was. There her friend stood, her head intact and no wounds discernible on her body. Her hair was surprisingly dark again and she looked sufficiently as freaked out as they did. Jules spun on her heel to yell at the occupants back in the cabin that they were here, before turning back to them.

"Where-?" she began, but Dana was already running full speed.

She crashed into her friend, almost knocking them both off their feet onto the porch. But she had to make sure this was real. All she could do was cling to Jules as tightly as could, praying this wasn't a dream.

Jules hugged her back just as fiercely and Dana pushed down the lump in her throat as she tried not to cry. Not even 10 hours ago she had held her best friend's decapitated head in her hands, and now Jules was alive and the apocalypse didn't happen and nothing made sense anymore. Dana fought to hold the tears back but holding Jules in her arms was forcing everything that had happened to finally hit her. She took a deep breath before pulling away, leaving at least one hand on her friend's arm, just in case.

Jules beat her to asking the question: "What the hell is going on? Where were you guys? We just woke up in the cabin like nothing had happened and-?" She broke off, her hand making wild gestures in the air as she struggled to find words. Curt and Holden almost barreled out the door, crowding next to Jules to take both her and Marty in with their own eyes. Marty had, by this point, made his way up to the porch to stand beside Dana. He stared at Jules as though she were a vision, like he couldn't believe his eyes. Dana could tell he didn't know what to make of this either. None of them did, really.

She took another breath, "I have no idea," she sighed out. Adrenaline began to pound at her ears and she started feeling jittery as the 'what ifs' flew to mind. What if they weren't really out this mess? What if the Buckners were still out there? What if there was still time to kill them all? "But I think the main goal right now is to just get the hell out of here while we can," she continued.

"Agreed,""I second that" Curt and Marty overlapped each other, with Jules and Holden nodding their heads in concurrence. All of them turned to rush into the cabin to get their stuff together as quick as possible.

Dana was cautious as she walked back to her room, keeping an eye and an ear out for anything weird…or _weirder_, she supposed. She gently pushed the door open, the creaking holding more weight than ever.

It looked the same.

Like, the same as when she last left it before the Buckner's showed up. The window was still intact, as was the quilt on top of the two-way mirror on the wall. Everything looked the same as before.

It still sent a chill down her spine.

She quickly hurried to gather her stuff, shoving it into her bags before leaving the room for hopefully the last time. As she walked down the suddenly long hallway a loud crashing noise brought her to a screeching halt. She dropped her suitcase and immediately dashed towards the noise which seemed to come from Marty's room. A loud rushing noise sounded in her ears as worst case scenarios came to mind.

"Marty?" she shouted, "_Marty?!_" She burst through his door and stopped.

He was standing over a broken lamp on the ground. She looked up from the broken shards to his face, confusion and panic probably warring in her expression. He looked just as frazzled.

"Marty…? What-?" she gestured towards the mess as she took a hesitant step into the room.

"There-there was a camera in there when-before the, ya know?" his hands fluttered about him as he tried to get the words out. He stared down at where there wasn't a camera, nor a microphone, nor a cable, coming from the destroyed lamp. There was nothing out of the ordinary. "I-I thought it might still be there but it's…it's not."

Dana could only look at him in response.

He continued, "I looked everywhere but the whole room is clean. I-I just…I don't know, Dana. I don't know what's happening." His voice hitched as he finally looked up at her.

She licked her lips, still unable to find the words to help him. She could only step forward and reach for his hand.

"Come on, Marty. Let's just get out of here."

He let her lead him out of the room.

-x-

Before she could leave, she remembered one more thing she had to check. She knew she probably shouldn't, but she didn't think it'd leave her alone if she didn't at least look.

She walked over to where the cellar was.

There wasn't even a door anymore. Not even evidence that there had been a cellar door, in fact. Her fingers traced the smooth surface as something unnamable welled up inside her. She wondered if it was panic, or just plain fear, or something else entirely.

"Dana?" Jules's voice called, snapping her back into reality. She had a small moment of madness where she wondered if there was a way she could rip through the floorboards, just to see it the things were still below but someone had hidden the door just in case. But a hand rested upon her shoulder and Dana forced herself to stand. To finally leave this place once and for all.

She got the hell out of there, closing the door behind her with relish.

The rising sun lit up the sky and the trees, making this place unrecognizable to the nightmare it had been.

How could everything still be the same?

Curt had the Rambler ready to go, something that still shocked her despite everything else. That vehicle had been at the bottom of the fucking lake. How did it get back up here? How was it even still intact?

She still didn't know. And so she got in the Rambler and didn't look back as Curt drove away from the cabin.

-x-

The speed at which he was going was almost that of last night's, when they had tried escaping the first time. The similarities freaked her out and she couldn't help thinking that this would be the final test. The tunnel had been blown last she saw it- if it was open now…

Well, she didn't know what that meant.

No one spoke in the van. No one could really voice their thoughts well enough, she supposed. And as they waited with bated breath to see the reality of the situation with the tunnel, the hesitancy to break the tension was very high. Marty sat in front of her but had eyes for no one but the tabletop that he rested his hands upon. Jules, however, looked at everyone in intervals, trying to gauge her friends' expressions and reactions. Holden stood between the driver's seat and the passenger's, helping Curt navigate his way once again, though she was sure Curt knew the way by heart. The scenery flew by even faster than it had the night before and she knew it was because this time they were aware that every second counted to get to that tunnel.

She clenched her hands beneath the table as she watched Marty do the same above. She watched as his knuckles grew white and his nails pressed against skin and had to stifle the urge to reach for him.

In what seemed like hours, but was rather mere minutes, she finally heard Curt proclaim the pass was finally coming up. She spun in her seat, getting up to look over Holden's shoulder in anticipation.

A weird mist seemed to hang around where the entrance was and they couldn't see if it was closed or not. That didn't stop Curt from gunning it, regardless.

"Curt," Jules warned, but he kept his foot on the gas.

As they were almost upon it, the mist dissipated and the cool darkness of the tunnel surrounded them. She didn't breathe until they were out on the other side, unable to process the fact that _they had made it_ this time.

The whole group seemed to exhale at the same time.

She flopped back onto her seat, her legs unable to support her anymore. Glancing over at Marty, she took in his ashen face and the small crescent shapes on his palms and the back of his hands. She reached without thinking and gently touched his skin. The way he flinched you would have thought she'd tasered him. She began to retreat but he was already pulling her hand back. So she sat there and allowed herself to breathe some more, feeling the warmth of his hand, and trying to understand what the hell was going on.

-x-

They drove for about hour or so before Curt announced that they were about to come up on that creepy gas station.

And then an idea hit her.

She stood up, her mind spinning with these new thoughts. She rested a hand on the back of Curt's seat. "Pull over," she ordered.

Curt shot her a look of disbelief, as did Jules. "What?" Curt asked, "Are you crazy? Why-?"

"Just do it," her tone leaving no more room for question. She then moved away, heading towards the kitchen area. "Do we have any weapons in this van?" she asked aloud, rummaging through the drawers for something.

That got everyone's attention.

"Why?" Holden stood up and began to walk over to her- to stop her or help her, she didn't know. She didn't care. Her hands paused as they finally landed on a rather large steak knife and she didn't hesitate to pull it out.

"That old man had to have been a part of the ritual. He's one of the transgressions we passed, he has to have been." She turned to face them, the knife held firmly in hand. "He's the only chance we have for answers and I'm going to get them no matter what. I need to know what's going on. I have to know."

Marty was the only one who seemed to be completely in agreement with her, though the others were varying. Regardless, Curt still pulled over when they reached the gas station.

Jules stood up before Dana could get near the door, "Wait a minute- what ritual? What the _hell_ happened back there at the cabin, Dana?"

Dana paused near the doorway, hesitating for just a moment, "I can't explain it all right now, Jules, but you have to trust me, okay?"

Her friend wavered, but ultimately nodded in acceptance. Dana opened the door. "Bring your bong, Marty," she tossed over her shoulder before she stepped out of the van.

She didn't go charging in full blast like she thought she would. Instead she treaded lightly, softly calling out, "Hello? Anybody there?"

No one answered her.

She could hear the others get out behind her. She slowly made her way closer to the building.

"We're looking to buy some gas?" she tried. She wondered if he was hiding, or if maybe the cult had disposed of him or something. But nothing moved and nothing replied. She grew even more frustrated. She knew he had to be here. He _had to be_. She _needed_ answers. She readjusted the knife in her hands to where the blade ran parallel with her arm, readying herself for anything.

"Where are you, you old _fuck_?!" she snapped, her voice rising along with her desperation. "I know you're here, and I'm not leaving until I get some answers!"

She was at the entrance to the main building by then and that was when she heard the click of the shotgun. She immediately began to backtrack but refused to move too far away. She heard a few intakes of breath behind her and could feel them surrounding her for backup. A hand touched the back of her wrist and she knew it was Marty trying to get her to back up a little more. But she couldn't.

The anger that had filled her all last night when going down the elevator returned with a vengeance, and she refused to let it go.

The shot gun emerged first from the doorway before the man stepped out. He looked the same as he did yesterday, but the wild and off look in his eyes was more prominent. He leveled the gun at her, but she didn't flinch. She didn't allow herself to, he didn't deserve her fear.

The hand at her wrist was more insistent, but she nudged it away gently.

"You better get the hell off my property before my trigger finger starts getting' itchy," he growled at her. His beady bloodshot eyes traveled over her to the rest of her friends. She squeezed the knife tighter.

"Why?" she challenged. "Are you afraid of what we'll do to you now that we know you don't have those evil gods to back you up?" She took a defiant step forward.

He spit on the ground at her feet. "It don't matter if they didn't show up this time. The Ancient Ones are always watching and you'd do right to show them some respect."

Dana heard Marty snort behind her, and felt relieved that he was still so expressive. She'd been worried that he'd never shake out of that comatose state; this gave her some hope that he'd be fine.

However, she agreed with his sentiment. "Why would I give them my respect when they killed my friends and tried to kill me? Why should I get off your property and not rip your _face off_ after you _led us_ to that slaughter?" she snarled.

"They needed a sacrifice and I gave it to them. If I hadn't, they would have been displeased. I will not apologize for doing my duty," he steadied the gun even more.

"Anything to justify murdering kids, huh?" Marty scoffed. His voice caused the man to look over at him, and that was when Dana moved.

It was idiotic, she knew. She had no experience with maneuvering like this, or immobilizing a threat in this manner. She flew blindly and instinctually, her hands reaching out to grab the rifle and rip it away from the man's hands, tossing it to the ground behind her. She used her weight distribution to throw him off balance, pushing him back against the side of the building. The knife she still held found its way to his throat and she kept it there securely, the blade just barely brushing his skin, the threat clear.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Curt scramble to pick up the rifle. She tightened her hold on the man and the handle of the knife.

"First things first," she began, "What's your name and what is your job?"

He merely curled his lip at her.

"Curt," she called softly.

The telltale click of a rifle being cocked forced the man to rethink his options.

"Mordecai," he spat. "You can call me Mordecai. And my job is to be the Harbinger, to set up the first transgression for sinners like _you_."

He made a move to throw her off, but Holden was right there, restraining Mordecai's left shoulder and wrist tightly against the building. From the pinched look on the old man's face, Dana bet Holden was squeezing and twisting his arm as far as he could. Curt stepping up on the other side to shove the end of the rifle in Mordecai's face helped keep him docile as well.

She readjusted her hand on the knife and continued her interrogation. "What happened? Why is the world still…okay? Why are there no giant evil gods running amuck?"

He didn't answer until Holden violently twisted his arm. He screamed in agony and she repeated, "_What. Happened?_"

"I don't know!" He barked. "The gods were supposed to have risen if the Fool hadn't died before sunrise. By all accounts they were supposed to have razed Earth to the ground by now."

"Then why haven't they?" she yelled, the knife pressing a little more sharply into the skin at his throat.

"I don't know!" he tried lifting his chin to relieve the pressure from his neck, but she merely followed him until he couldn't move his head anymore.

She paused then, watching him try to catch his breath as Holden continued to keep his arm in a painful position. She could tell that he was telling the truth; he didn't understand what was going on anymore than the rest of them about why the Ancient Ones didn't rise. However…

"Is that organization still running?" she asked.

He kept his mouth shut. This time Holden bent a finger back. In between his howls of pain he managed to answer "I don't know!"

"How do you not know? You work for them! I'm sure you have some form of communication with them- what is it?!"

"I'm not- _will you stop that?!_" he screamed at Holden, but Holden didn't move from his post. Mordecai dropped his head back in exhaustion, exhaling loudly.

"I have a number I call if I need to get in touch with them. They usually never call me, but if they do it's always on that ole' payphone over yonder." He motioned with his head to where a dirty old telephone was hooked up to the side of the shack next door on their right. She hadn't even noticed it before, it blended with every other piece of trash at the station.

"What's the number?"

He leveled his gaze at her and Dana held it. "What's the number?" she repeated firmly. He chewed on something that she guessed wasn't gum before finally rattling of the numbers.

"Jules?" Dana questioned over her shoulder. Her friend nodded before jogging over to the decaying phone, jabbing in the correct number and waiting.

It was a long couple of seconds. The only sound was the wind blowing through the trees nearby and Mordecai's heavy breathing. She could hear Marty behind her, stepping from one foot to the other nervously.

Jules finally broke the silence, "No one is answering. It says the number has been disbanded." She put the phone back down and joined them again. "Either they are actually gone or he's tipped them off about us."

"I haven't said _nothin'_!" he spat. "None of this would have happened if you had just followed the procedure like you were supposed to. I warned them to keep an eye on you two, especially _the Fool_," he snarled in Marty's direction and Dana tensed in defense. "But they didn't listen to me and now look at what's happened. Everything's gone to Hell in a hand basket!"

"Because the alternative would have been so much better?" Dana scoffed. "Killing children or setting evil gods free. Obviously those are the better choices than everyone living and the gods leaving, huh?"

"We've protected this planet for thousands of years off the blood of sacrifices. We've never had an error like this."

"Have you ever even seen these so called 'Ancient Ones'? How did you know for sure they'd rise anyway? Or have you been executing thousands of children based on an _assumption_?" she snarled, her hand shaking as her anger continued to build, her voice rising.

"I know my place and my role and I will not apologize for it," he stated. His arm was still twisted in an unnatural way, but he didn't look like he was in pain anymore except for the sweat that built on his forehead.

"No, you'll just be left with the fact that you're just a murderer with no justification. The blood of the children that came before us are on your hands and the cult you're a part of. Your excuses mean nothing anymore and you'll have to live with that now."

She wanted her words to cut. She wanted them to slice through and cause him to feel some sort of regret or remorse. She wanted to be ruthless.

But he smiled. A slow widening of his lips, showing off his blackened mismatched teeth and blood from where he'd bit his tongue. It unsettled her how calm he was.

And she wasn't the only one. Holden's hands tightened their hold and Curt lifted the rifle more firmly against him.

"I may have their blood on my hands, but you will always have the blood of your friends' on yours. The memory of being the one to call upon the horror that killed them. The memory of being the last survivor as you watched them being picked off one by one." His voice was soft and lilting, something she didn't expect him to be capable of. It took her off guard and she found that she couldn't speak as he continued his attack, his horrible breath hitting her in the face. "How did it feel? Knowing it was _your fault_ that your friends had met their grisly end? The sacrifices that I've sent on their way are just a blur now, there's so many. But you…you will always carry the memories. You will always see the deaths and remember. That is your survivor's guilt. That is your burden to carry and it will haunt you more than it will ever bother me."

She didn't know what to say. What made it even worse was that he was probably right. No, he _was_ right. She could still see Matthew tossing Jules's head in her mind's eye, feel the weight of it as she caught it. When she looked at Holden she could see the scythe and the blood splatter. She could still hear the roar of the engine and the crash when Curt hit the barrier. She could still smell the blood and burnt air as she and Marty waited for the end. She could still remember the look in Marty's eyes as she pointed a gun at him.

At that moment she felt like she'd always remember, that she'd never escape that cabin and that he was right and she wanted nothing more than to push the knife in and not let up. She wanted to cry and scream and buckle to the ground.

Instead she kept a calm expression. She showed nothing of the turmoil that was churning inside her and kept a steady hand on the knife.

"That may be, but that doesn't change the fact that I survived- that _we_ survived. Your sacrifice didn't work, your faith is null and void, your Ancient Ones abandoned you." He went to speak but she cut him off, "_Now_, since you put us through hell, I think we deserve a full tank of gas, on the house. Don't you think so?"

He clenched his jaw in agitation but didn't disagree.

"Curt? Why don't you and Holden escort him over to the gas pump? Make sure he does what he's supposed to."

"Will do."

Holden nodded and she slowly moved the knife back, watching as the boys led Mordecai over to fill up the Rambler. Curt never wavered with his rifle, which he pointed directly at the nape of Mordecai's neck, and Holden kept a firm hand on his shoulder. Mordecai didn't look like he'd try anything anyway; he knew he was outnumbered. Jules followed them to keep an eye on things.

It was only when they went around the gas pump and Mordecai was out of her sight that she finally allowed herself to breathe, letting her shoulders slump forward and her hair cover her face as tears pricked her eyes.

'He was right' was what kept running through her mind over and over.

She rubbed her eyes viciously, not willing to break down at this fucking gas station of all places. A hand on her shoulder caused her to jerk, swiftly turning to see Marty looking at her with concern.

"Dana-"

"I'm fine."

"No, you aren't. And if you were I'd actually be doubly worried," he gave her a small smile, but she knew he was serious. She let out a sigh, knowing he wouldn't take her bullshit; there'd be no point in even trying. So she decided to be honest.

"He's right, you know," she said softly.

Marty shook his head, "No he isn't, Dana-"

"Yes, he is, Marty," she said forcefully. "I can't forget what happened. Every time I close my eyes I still see them; I see all of our friends dying and all those monsters. I still see them and I will always remember that it was _my_ fault."

He gripped her upper arms and came closer, "But it wasn't your fault, Dana!"

Her hands instinctively found themselves at his chest- trying to pull him closer or push him away, she wasn't sure. "How can you say that? After I read the diary?" Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, "After I almost shot you?" She could feel a lump building at the back of her throat and swallowed, pushing it back down.

Marty's eyes softened and she couldn't handle that right now. How could he still even look at her? She had pointed a gun at him, ready to take his life just like those _people_, and he still gazed at her with this…this affection! She didn't deserve it, not any of his kindness. She couldn't even look him in the eye, choosing instead to stare fixedly at the neck of his shirt. However, he wouldn't let her avoid him, craning his neck to force her to look at him, his left hand reaching up to catch her cheek.

"Hey-hey, I don't blame you for any of that. None of us do. It didn't matter what had been chosen, we were going to be attacked regardless. It could have been _worse_, remember?" his thumb brushed along her cheekbone. "And that last thing? I think we evened that out when I let the werewolf attack you, remember?" he gave her a shaky grin and she felt something inside her relax a little. "After that, neither of us can really point fingers, can we? Besides, that type of stuff only brings people closer together."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at that and his grin strengthened. "I mean, you know, what's a little attempted murder and werewolf attacks between friends anyway- I mean, really now."

She tried to suppress it but he saw it anyway. He ducked his head to get a better look, "Ah! Is that a smile I see?"

Hiding her tiny grin behind a curtain of hair, she playfully thumped him on the chest. Before she could reply, however, Jules was already calling them over, saying that the tank was full and that it was time to go.

Marty glanced back at Dana in time to see any evidence of her smile slowly drain away. The hand that still rested on her shoulder squeezed gently.

"Dana-"

"We should go," she interrupted. She tried to move past him, but his grip on her tightened and he pulled her back slightly.

"Hey…," he whispered softly, "It's gonna be alright."

Her palms slid up his arms to rest on the hands that held her in place. "We'll see." She lightly pressed against his skin before letting him go. Making eye contact, she gave him a small smile, letting him see that she appreciated him being there and then stepped back.

"Come on," she nodded in the direction of the Rambler, reaching out to tug on his sleeve. "Time to get back to society."

"You know, I actually kinda miss that ole' binding society," he reflected aloud. Having her back to him she didn't see him smile when she giggled in response.

"Yea, me too."

Dana was almost in the van, had her foot on the first step, when Mordecai decided to leave some parting words.

"Good luck with those memories, ya hear?" he turned and spit off to the side, a satisfied smirk showing off his crooked teeth.

Dana's hand clenched the doorjamb as she reined in her anger. Keeping a composed exterior she turned slowly back to him, her eyes cool and deadly.

Her lip curled and without a word she leaned over and spat at his feet. Then she spun on her heel and walked calmly into the vehicle.

As she flopped back into her seat she could still hear Marty say, "I still believe that railroad will get here one day, you just gotta keep the faith!" before he bounded up the stairs too. He sat opposite of her at the table once again, next to Holden who was at the window seat. As the van started up and pulled out onto the road, Marty grinned cheerfully over at her and she couldn't help but laugh and shake her head in amusement.

Unfortunately, it didn't quiet the small voice of fear and anxiety that was growing louder as the prospect of reaching normal life came closer and closer. She felt like a ticking time bomb and she worried what would happen when they finally made it back home. She wondered when she'd eventually destroy everything, because at this point it was bound to happen sooner than later.

-x-

_So I wanted to start a CITW fic and here it is. Obviously starts at the end of the film and goes AU from there. I kinda have a direction I'm gonna take it, but I'm not quite there. We'll see as we go. Hope you guys like it :)_


End file.
